


Californian Sun

by Lavendelshampoo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Driving, Established Relationship, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Holidays, Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Iwaizumi Hajime, Mentioned Ushijima's Father, Plans For The Future
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26083306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavendelshampoo/pseuds/Lavendelshampoo
Summary: While driving with his boyfriend, Tendou ponders their future.It started as a joke. A bad one even.“Your father probably thinks Iwaizumi is your boyfriend.“
Relationships: Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 74
Collections: Ushiten Week 2020





	Californian Sun

**Author's Note:**

> written for the first day of #UshiTenWeek2020  
> the prompt was "holidays"
> 
> This is pretty short and I have no idea how I came up with it, it just happened. Enjoy <3

The landscape rolls past to the monotonous sound of tires on asphalt and Satori puts his arm on the car’s windowsill lazily, stretches his hand out and makes little waves on the turbulence, spreads his fingers to hold his hand up against the warm wind. The pressure of the air against his palm feels almost like blocking, but it doesn’t suffice to block out the nervous flutter in his stomach.

_ _ _

It started as a joke. A bad one even.

“Your father probably thinks Iwaizumi is your boyfriend.“

It had been almost three weeks since their last phone call.

“No. He knows it’s you.“

“But he _knows_ Iwaizumi. I‘m just some guy from high school livin‘ in Paris.“

The line goes silent for a moment. And then: “Tendou…“

Not Satori. He has overstepped, and he knows it, knew it before he let that slip. Sometimes, being alone does that to him. To them. Makes him snarky, makes him say silly things and overdo it. Heavy silence fills the room and he stares at his phone, licks his lips, afraid. Somehow, the distance felt in the usage of his last name scares him more than the 9700 kilometers between them. It feels more real and much greater and he fears that it will grow.

It has been too long that they have seen each other in person. Sometimes, in moments like these, the world feels big, too big and he feels like a child barely grasping any of it, so he falls back onto snarky comments and ill-placed jokes. Sometimes it feels like he’s living from moment to moment, but it’s no liberating feeling – it’s a disturbing sensation, as if he’s inevitably pulled forward without being quite sure where to, to what end? He knows that he has accomplished a lot he can be proud of: living in a foreign city, speaking a new language fluently, being accepted into apprenticeship for his dream job at one of the best schools for the trade – impressive milestones for someone his age, but they are all _his_ , not _theirs_.

He lets out a shaky breath and picks the phone up from the kitchen counter, as if holding it closer could lessen the distance he feels.

“I‘m sorry for what I said.“

“Don’t be. I should have introduced you.“

“It’s not your fault there isn’t any time,“ he answers and looks out the window. If he squints, he can almost imagine the Seine in the small gap between the blocks of high-rising houses. “That’s just the way it is.“

Somehow that truth hurts even more. _That’s just the way it is._ No one is to blame. They are each living their dream. They both decided to put their professions first and neither is holding any grudge because of it – but deep down, he nurtures another dream and he feels bad for even thinking it. It can’t be compared and there is no place for it, not now.

_ _ _

Somehow the Californian sun manages to do what going abroad, living apart and learning a job didn’t. It’s a warm summer day on the famed Route 66, about ninety miles north-east of Irvine. Wakatoshi is driving and it suddenly hits him that they are adults. Real grown-ups with jobs and insurances, loans and contracts.

He looks at his boyfriend in his white button-down, sleeves rolled up on his muscular arms to his elbows, wearing nice sunglasses and an even nicer watch. _Boyfriend_ doesn’t sound fitting anymore, the label not enough to encompass what they have, what they are. The thought kindles a strange, aching longing for _more_ and he leans his head on his elbow, closes his eyes and lets the breeze ruffle his short hair. The sound of the street and the thundering of air is loud in his ears, converging into a white noise, almost enough to isolate him from his thoughts.

Suddenly, there is Wakatoshi’s hand on his thigh, warm and strong and _sure_ and so very much right there. It eases the faint ache in his chest while it feeds his dream, his _other_ dream, tucked away safely for some other time. But maybe it’s not only his and he hopes – believes – knows there will be time and a place for that, if he’s patient. A small smile tugs on his lips. Being patient comes easier when he feels Wakatoshi’s fingers link with his.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!! Kudos, comments and critique are always much appreciated!  
> Or find me on twitter [@lavendelshampoo](https://twitter.com/lavendelshampoo) and feel free to talk to me!


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